Dark Carnage: Blood Omen
by Professor Image
Summary: "Then you shall have the Blood You Hunger For..." The Necromancer Mortanius offered me a chance for vengeance. And like a fool, I jumped at his offer without considering the cost. Nothing is free. Not even revenge. I awakened from my death, changed...and with a new, horrifyingly tantalizing thirst for blood...the irony. Author's Note: Vampire!Robin/Nightwing. Robin/Raven.
1. Vae Victus

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Teen Titans television series, comic books, or games, nor do I own DC comics or the Legacy of Kain. DC comics and Teen Titans are owned by Warner Bros. Entertainment, and the Legacy of Kain video game series is owned by Square Enix. I have made no monetary gain off of this work of fiction. This piece of fiction was written with only entertainment purposes in mind. Please do not sue. This work of fiction is meant for a mature audience. Anyone under the age of majority in their region should leave now. Thank you.

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I just recently bought and watched all the Teen Titans DVDs, so I decided to write something. This story is heavily based off of the Legacy of Kain video game series, which is about vampires. The two main characters of this story are Robin and Raven, which is also the pairing I'm using for this story. This is also a Vampire!Robin/Nightwing story, because I couldn't really dedicate the pairing to just Robin/Raven if it was an Incubus!Robin/Nightwing story, which would have turned into a harem if I went that path. If you don't know anything about the Legacy of Kain games then don't worry, it's only being used as a basis, and you won't need any foreknowledge beforehand. Also, there is a change in the preconceived canon before this story. The movie, "Trouble in Tokyo" ended with Robin and Starfire officially becoming an item. In this story, this does not happen. Instead, before Robin and Starfire can kiss, Robin gets a call from the Justice League, specifically Batman, who is furious over their situation in Japan. This puts a halt on their blossoming relationship, and the group soon makes haste to Jump City to be grilled by the Justice League. Finally, please bear in mind, though, this is the first time I've written in the Teen Titans category in a LONG time, so some of my facts might not be straight. Please correct me if I make a mistake.

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Enjoy:

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Dark Carnage:

Blood Omen

A Fanfiction Written by

Professor Image

Chapter I:

"Vae Victus"

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DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC

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Vae Victus – "Woe to the Conquered".

Ironic that these thoughts came to me now, as the pain and anguish consumed me. The years of quiet toil to learn a long dead language amongst the dusty books of my mentor's library came to me unbidden. The suffering receded, barely.

Fire and pain, these two facts were the two constants of my new life.

How did I come to this point? Was I not firmly on the side of good? What reason was I banished to this hellish place upon my death?

Death…yes…

Flickers of it flashed across my mind, parting through the immeasurable agony and despair that coiled in my very soul. A past that was so recent and yet so distant…

_Gunshots impacted into the pavement. I dove, disappearing behind a cement support. My voice was frantic, and yet I was heard. Four answering calls assured me…_

_Green bolts, blue sonic blasts, dark magic, and a flash of green. Good, they were ready. I jumped from cover and threw out a wide array of my Bird-A-Rangs, intercepting the bullets raining down onto the patio. From the corner of my eye I saw the burst of a muzzle flash, and, like lightning, I had retrieved a grappling gun from my utility belt._

"_There, on the roof!" I exclaimed, and instantly my team began peppering the nearby rooftop with blasts and attacks. Raven swooped by me as I grappled up to the roof, and when I joined the team they were in the midst of a battle with our enemy._

_I could only get a glimpse of him for a single instant, and didn't like what I saw. The man was outfitted in dark combat armor, all Kevlar and stainless steel weave. He carried what might be considered a whole armory on his body, at least a dozen different knives and a dozen different guns on his person. On his face he wore a simple, unadorned white mask with only two holes for his eyes, and his dark hair was pulled back into a long braid down between his shoulders. What was concerning was the ease at which he moved – grace and speed blending as he weaved between Starfire's star bolts and Raven's magical attacks. Cyborg unleashed a sonic blast, which the man avoided by easily slipping away from Beastboy's grip, and pulled out two machine guns from under his arms that he began firing at our group._

_Cyborg had to shield his organic parts with his cybernetic ones, the bullets pinging uselessly off his metallic skin. Raven shielded herself with one of her magical shields, gritting her teeth and focusing hard. Beastboy turned into a tortoise, hiding behind his shell, while Starfire took the full brunt of the barrage head on, since her skin was bullet proof._

_Starfire soared down, rearing her arm back with her hands glowing in green energy waves. The man quickly switched from his gun to a baton, the shaft sparking with electricity. I followed behind Starfire, throwing a Bird-A-Rang forward, into the man's path. There was a tiny explosion as Starfire came within feet of the man, but her fist went through and landed across the man's mask, and sent him flying across the roof, though not before the assassin could throw his foot forward and into Star's chin._

_I followed behind the man, pulling a retractable bo-stick from my utility belt. Cyborg and Starfire were right beside me. As the assassin rose to his feet he blocked my staff with his now broken baton that he clutched in two hands as they were now in two pieces. Cyborg and Star rushed the man, and he ducked and jumped away, causing the two to flail around each other to avoid being hit by each other's strikes._

_A second later, and two mini explosions shook Cyborg and Starfire, making them stumble as the man skirted across the rooftop, tossing aside the detonator in his hands. For a moment, I was overcome by surprise that the man could find the time to plant explosives on Cyborg and Starfire's backs while fleeing. However, I soon put that out of my mind as I rushed forward again, swirling my bo-staff around in one hand while I fished out three Bird-A-Rangs from my utility belt and sent them flying at the assassin's direction._

_The masked man seemed to _shrug_ to the side, gliding by the projectiles, but Raven was on course, blasting at his feet with her magic, and I was leading with my staff._

_My staff cracked against metal. The screech of the dull surface on sharped steel was teeth rattling. Green eyes glared out at me from behind his helmet, before he turned to the side and slashed out with his blades. I reacted on instinct, turning as I had learned, towards him, and yet out of his reach, but the man's feet were already skidding across the ground and he was turning with me!_

_Pain flared across my shoulder, before the man went soaring away as Beastboy rammed into him in the form of a goat – since heaiver animals would have collapsed the roof under us. The assassin flipped in the air, and avoided Starfire and Cyborg's blasts by closing his air surface and speeding up his descent back to the roof. Raven plucked one of the air conditioning units from off the roof and hurled it his way, while I threw some Sticky-Grenades down into the man's path._

_Casually, the man vaulted off the roof and flipped over the appliance thrown his way, spinning like a top and letting my sticky grenades sail harmlessly by him and towards my other teammates who had to evade. As he touched down to the roof his hand flashed forward, and a beam of intense, red heat burst from his wrist and scorched the rooftop._

_I dived, and it passed me by. A long line had been carved into the rooftop. The sight of the familiar tech made me furious._

"_WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FROM?" I roared, and for the first time since the fight the man spoke._

"_Slade sends his regards…" the man's monotone voice cut through the rage in my mind._

_Suddenly, the world shifted, and the rooftop began crumbling around me. I screamed on reflex, reaching for my grappling gun, only to find that at some point in the fight the assassin had sliced my trusty grappling gun in half. The assassin's ability to strategize even in the heat of battle would have left me stunned, if I wasn't already trying to survive the trap that he had set up for me._

_He had obviously paid attention to where all the damage was going onto the roof, and had maneuvered me into the weakest corner before slicing off the section that I was on from the rest of the roof._

_I tumbled down, catching a glimpse of the building's side. I reached out, hoping I could make it in time before I built up too much momentum…_

_Someone caught my hand, and as I looked up I found the concerned violet gaze of Raven watching me. She floated me up onto a platform of magic, and then we ascended once more._

"_Thanks," I told her. She nodded, face tight._

_When we once more made it onto the roof we found Starfire, Cyborg, and Beastboy locked in battle with the assassin. He had two pairs of electro batons out and was rapidly drumming on Cyborg's and Beastboy's bodies while evading Starfire's blasts and fists. As we touched down onto the roof the man immediately changed course and threw down a smoke pellet, which obscured our vision momentarily._

_The air left me with a woosh, followed by the searing pain of electricity. I staggered away, but Raven was already intercepting, lashing her hand out, wreathed in dark magic. A blade of dark energy passed through the space that the man had previously been, and Raven's surprise was easily exploited as the assassin dropped down from the air above her and landed a solid blow on her skull before wrapping his arms around her upper body and chunking her off the building. Unconscious, Raven fell helplessly through the sky._

"_Starfire," I shouted, and Starfire immediately knew what to do. Even if I had a grappling gun, at Raven's current velocity, the sudden stop of a grappling gun would likely snap her spine. She needed to be slowed to a stop, and the best way to do that was to have someone who was able to fly catch her._

"_Yes, Robin," Starfire responded, and raced after Raven. I turned to the Assassin, removing two Bird-A-Rangs and smashing them together. Instantly, my demon slaying sword sprouted from the two combined projectiles, I and leaned in for the attack._

_I was aided by both Cyborg and Beastboy, both working alongside my strikes, but still we couldn't get closer to the man. He was like a wisp of smoke – though we knew that he was there, every time we tried to catch him he would flow through our fingers._

_I slashed down, and quick as a serpent's strike the man blocked my sword with one hand while exchanging his second baton for a knife and stabbing out towards me. I twisted, feeling the steel cut across my hips, barely avoiding a more damaging cut. I rooted my feet and spun my body, removing my sword from across his baton and following it with another strike that the man blocked with his knife before smashing his baton into my collarbone. I gasped, kicked with my leg, relieved when the man jumped backwards._

_Cyborg dropped down in front of the assassin with the building's billboard in his arms. "Take this!" Cyborg roared, bringing it down._

_The assassin rolled underneath Cyborg's arms, planting a device on Cyborg's back that fried the cybernetic boy's circuits, causing him to scream in pain and drop the billboard on himself. Beastboy charged forward as a moose, but the man just flipped over him and into my path as I swung my sword._

_A flash of red momentarily blinded me, and then I felt the sensation of free falling…_

_Explosions were happening all around me, blinding me as I fell through each floor. I could feel the assassin burying his knees into my chest as he fell with me to the ground floor. I felt a flash of heat across my wrist, and I could tell that the tendons were severed. My grip on my sword loosened, and I felt the man jerk the sword from my hands before plunging it down into my heart._

_I gasped, at the same time that we hit the bottom floor and the building came down around us…_

Something shifted. The all-consuming heat behind me faded. Quiet footsteps filled the suddenly silent abyss. I could feel a dark, decaying presence behind me, like death manifested. I struggled uselessly against my restraints, feeling the metal studs grind into the bone that they were hammered into.

"Who is that? Who is there?" I questioned, trying to glean the identity of my watcher. A dark voice chuckled mirthlessly.

"I am the keeper of this plain of existence, the guardian of the dead," the voice claimed, and at once I felt a strong hand grip onto the hilt of the blade that had stayed lodged in my chest even to this moment, though now in the reverse of what it was that had killed me.

Agony burst anew in my being as I felt the man that the voice belonged to slowly pull the sword out from my heart, each inch of the blade feeling like I was being dragged across miles and miles of sharp glass covered forests. When it was free the blood poured forth from my wound in torrents, flooding down my body and pooling onto the cliff that I was shackled to and eventually dripping into the pools of liquid fire below my prison.

At once, the studs in the bones of my forearms that kept my shackles bound to me pulled free from my flesh and bone, releasing me to sag weakly to my knees. I coughed, placing a hand onto the bleeding wound on my chest and turned to regard my "savior".

The image of a tall, pale man with dark hair and white, blind eyes greeted me. He wore simple crimson robes, and a leather vest that came up into two bony spikes on his shoulders. Altogether, his unassuming appearance belied the malevolent aura that clung to his body and soul.

"I am the Necromancer, Mortanius, and I have dominion over death," the man told me, lowering the sword point down to the floor so that my blood could slowly drip from its surface. "That is right, young Richard John Grayson; _you_ are dead."

My voice was drowned out by a new accompaniment of tormented wailing that eternally echoed amidst this realm.

Mortanius's face scowled, and he motioned with his one unoccupied hand around us.

"Look at this place, Richard," Mortanius stated, smiling bitterly at my expression of disbelief, "This is the place where the dead with regrets and hatred dwell…in other words, hell…"

"Hell…?" my voice was slow, so consumed with my own rage that it was all I could do to speak.

"In life, you were pure, but your death has claimed your innocence and your God abandoned you to your damnation," Mortanius scoffed, shaking his head, "You will be trapped here for all eternity by those who condemn your thirst for vengeance…" I closed my mouth, my hands tightening into fists.

"I refuse," I growled. So what if I was damned? Why should I sit back and take a punishment that I _know_ that I do not deserve. I could see Mortanius eying me curiously.

"Perhaps," Mortanius said suddenly, raising the sword to eye it idly. "Yes, perhaps you will do."

"Out with it," I growled, as my patience wore thin. I was in agony and was possessed with knowledge that I had been forsaken even by God. What else did I stand to lose?

Mortanius chuckled, and turned the blade around to offer me the hilt.

"You wish to be reborn? You wish for revenge? Then you shall have the _Blood You Hunger For_," he intoned. The power that these words carried were palpable, like one of Raven's spells coming to life.

I eyed the blade warily, disgusted at the prospect of taking up the very weapon that had murdered me. But a sense of anxiousness and excitement welled up from within me to overflow all my senses. To my back the wails and heat of hell awaited me, and before me waited the temptation of the living world…

Choices, choices…

The sword was warm as I grasped it around the hilt, and a new sensation passed over me as I drew it from Mortanius grip. A surge of foul energy passed over my body, filling me with new, cursed strength that I could have only dreamed of before.

The dark energy seeped into every pour of my body, infusing muscle, sinew, and bone with its power. A rush of bloodlust filled my mind momentarily, and for just a single instant the rage and hatred that had existed inside my soul since my death fled in terror.

I smiled.

And then I awoke…

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To Be Continued…

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Author's Note:

And that's a wrap!

At the behest of VFSNAKE, I decided to give a go at a Teen Titans Fanfic. Now, here's the first chapter. What did you all think?

Please leave a review and give me your thoughts!

Ta.

Professor Image.


	2. The Thirst

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Teen Titans television series, comic books, or games, nor do I own DC comics or the Legacy of Kain. DC comics and Teen Titans are owned by Warner Bros. Entertainment, and the Legacy of Kain video game series is owned by Square Enix. I have made no monetary gain off of this work of fiction. This piece of fiction was written with only entertainment purposes in mind. Please do not sue. This work of fiction is meant for a mature audience. Anyone under the age of majority in their region should leave now. Thank you.

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One thing that I want to address about this story, I'm converting Robin into his superhero identity, "Nightwing" versus his sidekick identity as "Robin". There were plenty of clues in the television series that Robin was actually Richard "Dick" Grayson, even if they never came right out and said it. It probably had to do with how messed up the DCAU timeline is. More to the point, though, Richard Grayson is one of the founding members of the Teen Titans, and the only logical choice for the Robin acting as leader the Teen Titans series. Other people do as they like with the series, but I like Richard Grayson, and especially his Nightwing persona, so I'm using him.

Batman pretty much screwed Nightwing up real bad. It's bad enough that he teaches a kid out for revenge how to fight, but then he alienates him to the point that Robin has to rebel for his own sanity, and then, even though Robin invented the "Robin" persona, Batman strips him of the title and puts a new kid in his place. Bull-shit!

Anyways, as for my Nightwing, I'm going off the argument that in every universe that we have seen Dick Grayson in, he has either always been Robin or Nightwing. Therefore, I have inferred that Dick Grayson is destined for the Nightwing role no matter what life he lives. However, my Nightwing is different, as instead of being based off a hawk, he's based off a _crow,_ (or a raven, since they are pretty much the same thing, I think. The irony!), though I could have based him off a bat, but then, Richard would probably have issues with that symbolism, wouldn't he? So a crow it is.

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Enjoy:

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Dark Carnage:

Blood Omen

A Fanfiction Written by

Professor Image

Chapter II

"The Thirst"

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DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC

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The Necromancer Mortanius offered me a chance for vengeance. And like a fool, I jumped at his offer without considering the cost. Nothing is free.

Not even revenge.

I awoke to the pain of a new existence, in a dank womb of darkness and decay.

My body was weak with hunger and thirst, and the smell of centuries past filled my nostrils with its revolting stank. I was enclosed on all sides, and above me a cool, heavy stone lid barred my escape. It took me several minutes to find the strength to pry it open, and at once I breathed the mesmerizing scent of fresh air.

Little streamers of the evening sunlight poked through cracks in the walls. The stone chambers that I arose in belonged to a crypt at least two centuries old. I rose from the sarcophagus that I had been entombed within, scowling into the dim, dusty light. Swirls of decay choked the air, offset by the wafts of fresh breeze that slithered into the chamber through minute cracks in the walls.

I drew a breath, and suddenly I was alive.

The world outside was a cacophony of sounds, familiar, and yet strangely unfamiliar in the acuteness of their sound. Horns of cars, engines thrumming, electricity sparking, gusts of smoke, the dull loll of discordant voices, and the beating of hearts.

This last sound was most fascinating for me.

I stood amidst the decay, staring vacantly in the direction where I heard the slow thump-thumping of four distinct hearts. If I had to guess, three of them were adults, male, and the last was a child, female.

I felt strangely feverish, gripped in the clutches of a strange thirst that left my mouth dry and my throat burning and tight. Besides myself with the sensation, I vacated my prison and paced across the chamber to the only exit; a barred gate blocked my way, rusty, and strangely, I felt, ill-equipped to block _my_ path.

It seemed that I was correct, for the moment my hand closed around the rusty, century old lock that fastened the gate closed, there erupted a shrill crunching noise and the next second the gate swung loosely on loud hinges. I left, unmindful of the mess that I left in my wake.

The crypt was still as the dead, and the thick stone walls muffled much of the noise outside its silent walls. I listened only vaguely, most of my attention working to remember my path so that I could find the quickest escape. When I last found the front gate that blocked the crypt from the outside world, I found a new object to take up my attention.

There, standing at attention in a little glass case, lay the sword that had slain me; my sword.

It was obvious that the sword had been newly moved into the crypt, much as I had been. The dust on the floor was displaced, disturbed by footprints and the sliding of the case across the stone ground. The glass itself was too clean, spotless and impossibly bright in the dim light that streamed into the crypt from the gate; just looking at the cruel illumination made my eyes burn and my throat clench in renewed thirst.

Silently, with immense hesitance, I stepped up to the case and reached out to grasp it by its sides. The thick glass was nearly weightless in my hands as I removed it from my sword. With casual disregard to its orderliness, I dropped the glass onto the floor and plucked the sword out from the clutches of the inner case.

The hilt of the sword was only big enough for one hand, and much of the sword's general shape was all jagged lines and aggressiveness. It was easy to tell that they were created by combining two Bird-A-Rangs, the guard composed of two of the projectiles and the blade protruding from one side to lengthen to a sharp, viscous point. It was a weapon that I made after studying Raven's demonic aura, with the purpose to defend my friends from demons…now, it repulsed me.

I swung the sword in a slow arch, before nodding and striding towards the gates. A brief flick of my wrist sent the blade through the shoddy bars, and then the gate collapsed under its own weight.

I stepped out into the light of twilight, pinching my eyes closed to fight off the pain from the light. Unsurprisingly, I found myself stepping out into a graveyard.

Now outside, I recognized the sights and smells of the city that I found myself at. The stink of pollution and the griminess of the buildings that rose into the sky were unmistakable. Normally, I would have been amazed to find myself back in Gotham City, if not for my attention being otherwise occupied.

"- Oh, Lord Satan, give us the power!" a voice chanted, followed by a loud, blood curdling scream. Across from me, standing between rings of tombstones, four people were locked in the midst of a ritual. Three adult males standing, dressed in dark robes and with blood colored stains on their clothing, and a young, teenage girl strapped to a statue.

"Noooooo!" the girl wailed as one of the men plunged a ritualistic dagger into her heart. The other two men laughed, one of them bending over to lay a bowl under the girl's body to collect the blood.

As for me, I was locked in the throes of a hunger that took over all my senses. My conscious mind rebelled against this horrifying scene, desiring to save the girl and punish her murderers, but my unconscious mind hissed its satisfaction, groaning in desire at the sight of all the warm blood spilling from out of the girl's chest.

My hands were shaking, the sword in my right hand twitching spastically. A fever had stolen over me, sweat rising up on my brow and dripping down my facemask. The wind suddenly changed direction, blowing the girl's scent fully into my face, hot and sweet and pure…I felt my lips pulling back over my teeth in a snarl.

My legs pulsed with strength, and then I was sprinting down the graveyard path.

On instinct, as I landed in the midst of the ritual, I lashed out with my blade and carved into the flesh of the man who had just placed the bowl down. He screamed slowly, as if in slow motion, making a grabbing motion towards the arm that was slowly falling from his shoulder, but I paid all of this no heed, turning on my heel and thrusting the blade forward at the second man.

A wet sound accompanied my blade, slow and dull. The man's eyes pinched together in pain as I disemboweled him. I twirled the blade, slashed down, and severed his right leg as he fell, screaming in agony.

With the last man I disregarded my sword entirely, and reached out to grip him around his neck, jerking him towards me. The scent of his blood barely contained in his fragile human skin, and the noise of his pulsing, terrified heart was like thunder to my ears. My whole attention affixed onto his frightened countenance, feeling some sort of satisfaction at his terror… my lips pulled back as something in my mouth shifted, and before I had time to understand what I was doing I clamped down on the man's neck with my teeth and tore into his flesh.

A rush of warmth and flavor burst across my taste buds as I gulped down all the liquid pouring down from his neck and into my throat. I growled in the back of my throat, my unoccupied hand lowering to grip his shoulder in my hand, clenching my fingers down, and feeling his shoulder give under the sudden pressure. The man's screams were like music to my ears, and the crunching of bone like the encore to a concert. All my senses were overwhelmed by the sensation of drinking this murderer's blood, my heart and soul ringing in joy…

I drank until the man's veins were dry, and even beyond, consumed with the mindless desire for blood. I clenched down with my teeth, rippling into his thin skin, biting again and again until I felt the last piece of muscle and skin give way and the man's head fall from his neck.

I threw back my head and roared, feeling strangely elated, the base instincts of a predator raising its head in victory. A dark power swelled in my heart and spread over my whole body, filling my senses with the desires to hunt and kill and feed…

_Robin!_

The dark power receded. A voice ringed in my mind, echoing through my whole being. For a single instant I felt another person's presence wash over my senses, fading as the dark power inside me slowly vanished. I could feel her sheer joy and concern that she felt at my renewed connection to her, but that quickly passed as her mind slowly disappeared from my thoughts.

I swayed on my feet, feeling strangely overcome by the events that had passed. I leaned heavily against a tombstone, eyeing the destroyed and befouled graveyard that I stood amongst through narrowed eyes.

All the four of them were now dead, murderers and victim. The men were sprawled across the ground, locked in the throes of torment. The girl hung against the statue that they had bound her two, blood collecting in the bowl below her feet.

On impulse, I lowered myself to the girl's feet and dipped a finger into the liquid that overflowed the bowl. It was still warm, and I felt that unfamiliar hunger rise inside me, my throat burning with my desire.

I raised to my feet, looking into the girl's limp features, her eyes vacant and glassy. I reached out and ran a hand across her innocent face, feeling the soft skin knead under my touch. My black glove was bloody, and left a red stain on the girl's face as I removed my hand.

"What have I become?" I asked no one, and did not receive an answer, even though I knew that I would not anyways. That did not bother me. What did was the inspiration in my mind that assaulted me in that moment.

These…people were my prey.

This thought spread into every cell of my mind, diffusing slowly across my consciousness. Horror struck at the epiphany, I placed a hand onto a nearby tombstone and angrily clenched my hand onto its surface. Hard stone clutched between my fingers, I felt the strong body give way as I crumpled the first few inches below my hand into dust.

I stepped back, surprised at my new strength, mind whirling rapidly with questions. Briefly, I reflected my resurrection and the short battle between myself and the three murderers.

This dark power that pulsed inside my soul…what was it?

I slowly raised my sword to eye level and glared at myself through the medium of the shiny blade. Gold eyes stared back at me, surprising enough that I lowered the blade and drew in a hesitant breath.

_No,_ I thought, blinking away the sudden panic that was settling upon me. I brushed my unoccupied hand across my face, feeling the matured angle and shape of my cheekbones. I looked down at myself in wonder, realizing for the first time what was different about me…

I realized that I had grown at most a foot, so that I now stood somewhere above six feet. I was dressed in a black and white skin tight suit, with no apparent way to store my items on my person as I could not see a utility belt at all. Upon my chest was drawn the image of a blue bird of some kind, the exact identity of the bird unknown, though it bore an uncanny resemblance to the bird that Raven most identified with…

As I glanced back into my sword I realized that not only had I seemingly matured since my death, and not only were my eyes now a fierce, demonic gold, but my spiky black hair had been transformed into the purest white to have ever been seen by mortal eyes.

"What _am_ I?" I wondered aloud.

"_You are vampire, the resurrected dead,"_ the voice of Mortanius answered, though as I glanced around the graveyard that I resided in I found that I was still alone. _"By use of dark magic I have bound your soul to your mortal flesh, and thus you will feed this magic by consuming the blood of man…"_

"What have you done to me?" I exclaimed, my voice echoing through the graveyard.

"_I have given you the means to which to claim your vengeance, as you agreed upon when you wished for me to resurrect you,"_ Mortanius claimed. "_In time, you will come to enjoy the life that I have given you. For now, focus on finding your killer before condemning me for your new form…"_ with that, Mortanius fell silent.

I stood alone in the graveyard, turning in my place several times, before I sighed and trudged away from the grisly site of my awakening. The gates to the graveyard loomed high above me in the distance, and as I approached I had a thought…

"_Then you shall have the Blood You Hunger For…"_ was what Mortanius told me.

Now, I awakened from my death, changed… and with a new, horrifyingly tantalizing thirst for blood…

The irony…

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To Be Continued…

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Author's Note:

I would have combined this chapter with the last one, and possibly more, but I'm not writing to a specific word limit but to what I feel is perfect for the chapter; which is why these first two chapters are so short. In time, they'll probably get a lot longer, but right now the current size of these chapters is perfect at this time. Once we get to the real meat and potatoes of this story, though, that should change…

As always, review and tell me your thoughts.

Ta.

Professor Image.


	3. The Sun

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Teen Titans television series, comic books, or games, nor do I own DC comics or the Legacy of Kain. DC comics and Teen Titans are owned by Warner Bros. Entertainment, and the Legacy of Kain video game series is owned by Square Enix. I have made no monetary gain off of this work of fiction. This piece of fiction was written with only entertainment purposes in mind. Please do not sue. This work of fiction is meant for a mature audience. Anyone under the age of majority in their region should leave now. Thank you.

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Part of the reason why I have so many issues with vampires is the modern day interpretation of vampires. The new generation of writers seems bound and determined to slander the image of a vampire. Casting vampires as romantic, troubled and lonely creatures who are just looking for love is an insult to the vampire's name. Vampires are supposed to be violent, evil, and above all else, the uncontested predators of the night. Thankfully, for every good vampire out there, we have new evil vampires being made. Though Kain in the Legacy of Kain series is largely the "hero" destined to save Nosgoth from destruction, I still wouldn't classify him as "good", either, more like, he's a villain forced to save the world.

Richard/Robin/Nightwing isn't really going to BECOME Kain, but he won't be some pathetic romantic "woe is me" vampire like Twilight or the Anne Rice vampires. He'll be vicious, and brutal, even if he won't be on par with Kain. Vampires, by nature, are sexual creatures, so he'll have plenty of times to put the moves on Raven. However, the romance isn't a central part of the plot; it's only a happy bonus. Largely, the story is about Richard's fight against adversity. His relationship with Raven and Starfire are only a minor part of that conflict. You'll see what I mean in the future, hopefully.

That being said, Richard's actions so far have been out of character, I admit, but when you think about it then it makes sense. Richard's basically learned that he's been sent to hell despite everything good he's ever done, and so desired revenge against those who wronged him. Upon being resurrected, he finds that he's a vampire with a thirst for blood, and ill prepared as he was to fight it he obeys his instincts and kills to feed said thirst. You'll see the beginning of how conflicted Richard will become for his actions in this chapter, I think.

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Enjoy:

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Dark Carnage:

Blood Omen

A Fanfiction Written by

Professor Image

Chapter III

"The Sun"

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The street that the path from the graveyard opened to was dark and lifeless. Less than a block away though, the dawning night was illuminated by the bright lights of city life.

I stood in the shadows of an alleyway, willing the pain from the lights in the street to fade from my eyes. The street goers avoided my alleyway like the plague; either recognizing the menace that clung to my new form, or avoiding the man who dressed in the garb of a superhero, neither of which I knew for a fact.

I gazed out into the street, overcome by sensation. That of me that wasn't aching from the artificial lights of the city was aching with my foul hunger. The noise and smell of a polluted, dissected city could not block out the smell of blood and the sound of beating, human hearts. My body quivered with the desire to feast.

Already I regretted turning away from the bowl of blood that had been left for me. I felt as if the meal I had already was for too small and insignificant to sate my growing hunger. I yearned for more, desiring new, more fulfilling blood to fill my belly.

I stepped farther into the shadows, stopping to climb upon a fire escape and ascend to the rooftop. I wished dearly for my grappling gun as I surveyed my surroundings, noting the distance between buildings…but then, inspiration thundered through my being…

I was vampire, the predator of humans…I possessed a body superior to an adult human males, did that not mean that I was capable of crossing such insignificant distances with ease? I tested this theory by pushing my strength to my legs and giving a mighty leap straight into the air. As I expected, I ascended several stories into the air easily, before lightly landing back onto the rooftop with nary a sound. I smirked.

Yes, I admitted, a grappling gun would have made things infinitely easier, but I could make due with superior physical abilities, that I was certain. I turned to the edge of the roof to regard my jump, estimating the approximate distance I would cross. I took a single step back, and then threw myself over the gap.

I easily cleared the distance. In fact, I had to reach out to grab the billboard upon the building in order to halt my jump as I overshot my destination. I climbed down upon the roof and turned about in place to smile appreciatively at the building that I had just leapt from, before throwing my head back and laughing.

I sat myself upon the roof and leaned my sword against the billboard, closing my eyes to drink in the renewed quiet of the rooftop. Though my hearing could pick up the distant noise of the buildings, cars, and people below, much of it was muffled by the height that I had ascended. I sighed tiredly and drank in the fresh, crisp night air.

The first order of my business would be to find a way to contact the police and inform them of the mess that I had left in the graveyard. Though I cared not for my victims, the girl's family deserved to know that she had been killed and that her murders had been dealt with. Even my new form and cursed resurrection could not change that side of me that wished to see justice done…and, as loath as I am to admit it, I was somewhat disgusted by my decision to kill my victims. It was instinct that drove me to kill my victims in the graveyard, and as disgusted as I am that I would have been the one to do the deed, I did not regret killing them, strangely.

I stood to my feet, taking back my sword and overlooking the city from my vantage point. Gotham was infested with crime and corrupt, the powerful lording over the impoverished. The city teemed with evil…it should be the perfect place for me to hunt…

As I overlooked the city I was struck with the desire to quickly find my prey and begin my hunt. I needed speed, and I felt that racing across the city from rooftop to rooftop would take too much time. I yearned to fly, and felt my dark power react to my desire.

A sensation like an electrical current passed over my form, filling my veins with power. I felt my body shift, breaking apart as my perception of the world changed. Suddenly, I was looking out of over a dozen pairs of eyes, and glimpses between each pair showed me that each pair was connected to a body.

Over a dozen big, white birds were perched upon the roof, each with blue plumage around their crown and menacing golden eyes. I could feel that each bird was connected to me, and as I directed one to shrug, I found the bird shrugging, and felt it happening as if it was happening to me. I laughed, and the flock cawed in time with my voice.

As my flock disappeared into the sky, I wondered briefly where my sword had disappeared to upon my transformation.

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DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC

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As a flock of birds, I was easily able to scour the city. Each of the crows possessed a vision that allowed them to pierce the shadows and scope out possible victims. As the hunger inside me reared up, I soon found my prey accosting a woman in a dark alley. I swooped down into the shadows of the alley and changed my avian form back into my vampiric form, and stepped out of the shadows with my sword reared back.

My swing took the man's head from his shoulders, causing his would be victim to scream and flee the scene in terror. I stared after the woman's, instincts wishing to pursue, before I turned my attention to the flailing, decapitated body and wishing dearly that I had been able to control my impulse to kill and saved him to feed my hunger.

As in reaction to my thoughts, my dark powers awakened once more. Instinctively, I reached towards the body with an open hand, and watched, startled, as the blood spurting from the severed neck changed direction and flowed towards me. I gasped, and immediately the blood flowed into my mouth and down into my belly. My powers reacted to the nourishment, growing slightly inside my soul.

For the briefest of instances, I felt her familiar mind connect with my own, her joy and relief filling my soul and undead heart with warmth before I squashed the sensation down. Her presence faded as my powers calmed with the receding flow of blood into my mouth. Once done, I wiped the trail of blood from my lips with my hand, smearing red across my strangely clean glove.

Quickly, I knelt to the body and searched his pockets, finding about a hundred in cash and a bit of loose change, but little else. A brief perusal of his cards found that he had a membership card to a club that I knew the Penguin owned, which I knew from my years with Batman only allowed in criminals into its establishment. That would be a good place to start, if I had no other leads by then. I gave a quick look over the man's clothes, weighing whether or not it would be prudent of me to take them, but the obvious blood stains on them wouldn't help me at all, so, in disgust I turned away and faded into the shadows. I had soon transformed into my flock and departed the alley silently.

A few blocks away and I reformed into my vampiric form upon a rooftop, gazing down to street level with a scowl on my face.

I knew that I couldn't keep this up. Already, I felt significantly drained with fatigue from all the transformations I had undergone and all the activity I had participated since my new awakening. I would need somewhere to rest, but then, there would be nowhere that anyone would freely let a vampire into to rest, now, would there?

Sighing, I desperately wished for a way to mill about with the rest of the population. Once more, I felt my body shift, my perception changing to the dull senses of a human. When I then looked upon myself, I found that I had taken on a human guise. Tan, with black hair, and a glance into a window showed my eyes had regained their previous blue hue. To complete the illusion, I found that my clothing had changed into a relaxed pair of jeans, a t-shirt and overcoat, and simple trainers. Simple, and unassuming, and within my pocket I found the wallet with my newly stolen cash and the membership card that I had plucked from my newest victim's carcass.

"Very nice," I smiled.

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After a quick run to a payphone, where I called the police and left an anonymous tip about the graveyard and the body that I had left behind a few blocks away, I soon dispersed into the city.

I stalked the streets for hours, even coming into conflict with the local thugs as I walked into more scenes like those that I had walked into hours previously. This was, after all, why I hated Gotham city. Even as a human I could smell the evil in the air. As a vampire, I seemed to have a preternatural sense, an ability to find evil no matter which hole in the ground it would crawl into to hide.

Still, there were only so many hours in the day, and sometime after midnight I felt my body grow weaker. As the sky began to turn steadily to a light shade of blue, I found it prudent to find a hole for myself to hide in as well.

The motel that I barricaded myself in was cheap, which was the concern for me now that I didn't have access to the funds that Batman had left for me when I went solo, or the account that Jump City had created to fund the Teen Titans. Still, as cheap as the hotel was, I would need to find other avenues of pay if I wished to avoid the sun…

Thankfully, what I had stolen off my first victim when stepping out of the graveyard was more than enough to pay for a room, and the rest that I had collected this night from my prey was stashed away for other such stays. After sorting through all the wallets that I had collected, I drew the curtains in my room closed as I noticed that the sun was starting to rise.

The world had changed to my eyes. I had not expected such cruelty from the light. For in the embrace of the sun, I could find no comfort, only malice. This would change in time for the worse, along with other things.

I sat myself in a chair, watching the curtains as I saw the first splashes of sunlight. Even in Gotham city, the days were bright, more so now that I had the eyes of a vampire to find my way. As I watched the sun rise through the protection of the curtains I felt the weakness in my powers growing. Tiredly, I shook my head to keep from crashing right there, stumbling towards the bed. However, it wasn't long before the rays of the sun rose to a point that they splashed over the bed, and though the light was filtered I felt the prickling of pain across my skin. I rolled off the bed, panting, realizing that the spot on my arm where the light had touched me was raw and aching.

I stood upon shaking legs and stumbled towards the bathroom, throwing the door open and sighing with relief when I realized that there were no windows in the room. I shut the door and turned off the lights, before weakly crawling into the shower and curling into a ball.

In time, the weakness grew to such an extent that my consciousness fled to the winds. The room was strangely quiet as all my awesome powers fled me under the purifying powers of the sun. My body ached with hunger and the pain of raw burns, and my spirit was crushed under the weight of the sun… my consciousness waning, I soon fell into the grip of sleep for the first time in my new life…

And as I slept, I dreamt of _her_…

Raven.

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To Be Continued...

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Author's Note:

So, I had this chapter completed yesterday, sometime after posting the second chapter, but decided to scrap if as I felt that I was making Richard/Robin/Nightwing too strong too fast, and the pace of the chapter didn't really fit with the rest of the story. So, I ended up rewriting it three times before I was satisfied with the content of the chapter. The original version of the chapter had Nightwing finding his way into the Penguin's club before massacring Mr. Freeze, Two-Face, a lot of goons, and then torturing the Penguin until he told Nightwing what he wanted. Ultimately, I decided it didn't fit with the rest of the story, since I wanted to humanize Nightwing in the third chapter, and the way he just went about massacring a sleuth of villains didn't feel right. This rewrite is better, since Nightwing actually contemplates his actions, setting the stage for a future confrontation that I have planned.

Meh…

As always, leave a review and tell me your thoughts.

Ta.

Professor Image.


	4. The Dream

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Teen Titans television series, comic books, or games, nor do I own DC comics or the Legacy of Kain. DC comics and Teen Titans are owned by Warner Bros. Entertainment, and the Legacy of Kain video game series is owned by Square Enix. I have made no monetary gain off of this work of fiction. This piece of fiction was written with only entertainment purposes in mind. Please do not sue. This work of fiction is meant for a mature audience. Anyone under the age of majority in their region should leave now. Thank you.

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In the Legacy of Kain games, the plot is told from the perspectives of the characters Kain and Raziel. In Blood Omen 1 and 2, it is told from Kain's perspective, and in Soul Reaver 1 and 2, it is told from Raziel's. But in Defiance, it is told from both Kain and Raziel's perspective, ultimately ending up with Raziel dying and the story switching fully to Kain.

That is why I feel compelled to change the perspective now from Richard/Robin/Nightwing to Raven. Much has been left to question now. There are events happening around the world that Richard is unaware of, and through Raven we can see the plot unfold from someone else's eyes. She's a central character to the plot, and it makes sense for us to see the other side of this drama play there part. Still, the story is predominately about Richard, so we will see significantly less of Raven's perspective then Richard's.

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Enjoy:

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Dark Carnage:

Blood Omen

A Fanfiction Written by

Professor Image

Chapter IV

"The Dream"

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Tiredly, my head lolled to the side, my eyes closing nearly fully as I listened. My senses were confused though, and so I could only understand half of what I was hearing. At the very least, I could understand the general thought behind my actions.

"Danger to you all," ah, yes, Batman's dark voice broke through my concentration. I could see a glimpse of his dark shape behind the glass wall that overlooked my room, though it was blurry with the drugs. "- have to sedate her for your safety…"

My head rolled, turning away from the conversation. Of course they were afraid!

I felt like laughing, though not in any form of humor. It was a mirthless laughter, that of the betrayed. The drugs that the League's doctor, another "Dr. Light" had doused me with suppressed my powers, but also frayed my emotions. The steely control I usually enforced on my mind waned, and I found myself bitterly glaring out the window.

The sun was rising now. I had fought against the drugs all night. The emotional backlash of the previous night had left me strangely weary. I was now much too weak to fight the sedatives any longer.

A week after Robin's death, and it had already come to this…

Even if I was the one to originally declare Robin dead after feeling my connection to him disappear, I knew what I felt. Hours ago, I had felt frequent bursts of awareness pass to my mind. A familiar presence connected with my thoughts, and though I could feel the strange changes in his mind, there was no denying who he was.

Naturally, I panicked. My control over my emotions had slipped and torn the living room of the Titan's tower asunder. When I eventually regained control, it was only to flee the tower in the pursuit of a lead.

The rest of the Titans save Starfire found me and tried to convince me to return, to calm myself and grieve properly. None of them understood. This was the first time that I ever came to blows with the rest. Even then, I was forced to flee least I had hurt my friends.

Sometime close to midnight I connected with Robin's mind again, but before I could trace the connection I was found once more by the rest of the Titans, followed by the Justice League. Batman was not amused by my tale that Robin had returned. I was quickly subdued and was forced to let the Martian Manhunter invade my mind in order to calm the two groups. Naturally, my friends were appalled that the League would see the need to search my mind, but I understood. It wasn't like I would make a lot of sense with all the drugs that they had pumped into my body.

Now I lay against the bed that I had been restrained to, inside the Titan's Tower. Cyborg was trying to convince Batman that I wasn't a danger, while the Martian Manhunter was listing off all the baggage left behind by Robin's death. Though, when Batman prompted the Martian whether or not I was telling the truth, the alien was forced to admit, "Yes, to the best of her knowledge."

I listened to Batman running a list of scenarios of why I felt Robin's renewed presence in my mind, everything from demon possession to a scheme by some villain to exploit my weakness and attack the rest of the Titans and the League. At no one point did he actually admit that Robin could still be alive.

I pitied the man. It was easy to tell that he was grieving as well, but he wasn't handling the death of his "son" all that well. It was easy to tell that he didn't want to get his hopes up. He probably feared what could await him if he dared.

The sun peaked over the horizon, and I felt the world vanishing around me.

Instantly, I felt my mind expand beyond my mortal form, stretching out across the city and beyond. Unable to find my query, I searched desperately. I found the briefest flicker of his mind somewhere distant, and grabbed at it, holding his presence to me and trying to strengthen our connection with what of my power I could grasp. I felt him writhe in my grasp, gasping weakly.

_Raven…_

As if his voice was the key, suddenly, a blinding light stole over both of our conscious minds, and we tumbled to the ground.

He was beside me, and yet, all around me, I noted distantly. I could feel his confusion and exhaustion as he climbed to his feet, bending down to help me orient myself. I stood, on shaky legs, trying to remember how to support myself through the haze of the drugs. His arm wrapped around me and held me to his throat, his breath fanning over my ear. I felt him dig deeper inside his soul until he grasped at something dark, something similar to my own powers, and felt him feed it into my soul, purging my mind from the grip of the drugs.

The world solidified around us, taking shape. The sky turned dark, with brooding, black clouds, and a red full moon that cast the world in stark relief. Around us, dark shapes took form, trees and stone and brick and water. Underfoot, grass and dirt formed, growing to support our weight. Soon, we stood in a graveyard, one that would usually be found in a family's estate. It seemed that he recognized it, giving a short gasp of surprise as he pulled away.

"Wow, amazing," Robin said, awe in his low voice. I took a glimpse at his face, and was amazed to find unnaturally golden eyes looking back in wonder.

This…was not Robin, or, at least, not the one that had left us a week prior.

"Your eyes…" I gasped myself, reaching out to lightly touch his chin. He pulled back slightly; I could feel his indecision, before he reached towards me and ran his fingertips across my nose.

"I apologize," he stated, shutting his eyes and pulling away from me. He turned, and paced a few feet away, leaving me to grasp the spot that he had just vacated weakly. "This is the first time that you have seen me…like this. I didn't want…" he shook his head and sighed.

More than his eyes had changed, I saw. His normally jet black hair had turned white, whiter than even the snow on the highest mountain top. His pallor had paled considerably, almost ghostly, and yet seemingly healthy. He had gained at least a foot in height, so that he now towered over my slight form. Muscles rippled across his body, like thick pythons coiled to spring. He…had grown up, and yet, something was amiss.

"How long have I been gone?" he asked, and at my blank stare he nodded at the grave that he was standing in front of. When I leaded towards him to see for myself, I read the inscription on its surface.

_Here lies Richard John Grayson, loving son, friend, and hero. The world will miss him dearly._

"Ah," I breathed, my eyes widening slightly. I squashed my instinctual reaction to those words. There was no need to panic because I was sure that this was not a delusion. Somehow, Robin had been revived.

"Well?" he wondered, and I looked up to find him staring at me, his brow furrowed in an intense expression. Only then did I realize that he wasn't in costume. He was wearing simple black jeans, a white shirt, and a black coat. A look over my own body showed that I was wearing much the same, a simple white and black outfit; though I was uncomfortable with the long gothic skirt that I was wearing.

"It's…been about a week…since you…" I fell silent, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself for comfort. Logically, I knew that there was no reason to mourn for him now that I knew that Robin was alive and well, but that some part of me that I called "Grief" still loudly lamented my leader's passing, as if she couldn't accept his reappearance in my life as fact.

"Death…" Robin mused, reaching out to brush his fingers across the gravestone. The fabric of the reality around us rippled at the contact, and he pulled his hand back, alarmed. His expression turned introspective as I felt his confusion give way to understanding.

"Ah, I see, this is a dream, then…" he stated. To answer that, I reached forward to wrap my fingers around his other hand, his long, worn fingers folding perfectly around my smaller, softer clutch.

"No, this is the link," I told him, stepping up so that I could feel his warmth. Strangely, though, I felt almost as if I was standing next to an opened freezer. Robin turned his golden gaze to my face, arching a fine brow thoughtfully.

"The mental connection between us…you've rebuilt it?" he wondered. I shook my head.

"It was always there," I admitted, forcing my warring emotions down from the surface so that they wouldn't interrupt the mental connection, "It was never quite as strong as that night when I first cast the spell, unless I actively fed it my magic, but when you…" my eyes flicked to the gravestone involuntarily. Despite my cool disposition, there were some wounds that I couldn't hide. He nodded in understanding.

"I see…" he stated, and I felt his mind turn from our conversation to other, darker paths, "So, the link must have reestablished itself when I was 'revived'," he thought aloud, giving voice to the thoughts that I could feel mulling below the surface. His eyes flicked to me, hesitant, before asking, "How did the others take it?"

"The Justice League had me sedated, and from what I understand, no one has told Starfire, yet…" at my words, he closed his eyes and I could feel his rage and despair consuming him. I squeezed his hand in support, about the only action that I was comfortable with, as even in our minds neither of us were the hugging type.

He blinked his eyes open and regarded me, tilting his head. Then he realized that we were still holding hands, and let go. One of the emotions inside me, the one I dubbed "Crush" rebelled at the loss of contact, but I forced her down. Everyone knew where I stood with Robin, after all, hell; everyone knew where I stood on the whole "romance" part of life. The last time I had tried for a relationship I had been tricked into setting free an evil dragon that wanted to end the world. Even if I had gained a little more control over my powers after defeating my father, I wasn't just willing to take a chance with my heart, especially with the fact that Starfire already had priority. It was too little, too late for me to stake my claim.

I knew he felt my indecision and anxiety, so I did my best to force all my emotions back down and focus.

"In any event, I think I should really tell Starfire and the others that I was right," I stated, and he turned to me now, with an indifferent expression on his face. "I imagine that that will make Starfire's year…" I trailed off as I noticed his expression darkening.

"No," he said coldly and suddenly I could feel a violent aura surround him. His eyes glinted in the darkness, appearing to give him an almost demonic expression. As he reached for me, I felt conflicted. My human instincts felt repulsed, while my demonic recognized a superior predator. He pulled me towards his body, a hand going up to pull my chin up so that he could look me in the eyes. "No." He demanded again.

I could feel many emotions rising up inside him, his rage and his despair the greatest of which. I could feel equal parts self-loathing and hatred at an unknown party, and even bits of fear and doubt. Above all else, I felt that dark power inside his soul pulsing with his emotion, teeming at the edge of both of our awareness.

It seemed that my fear and lusts were somehow able to escape my steely resolve, as Robin pulled back as if struck. The world pulsed around us before melting into a dark abyss. Robin took an unsteady step back, breathing heavily as he forced his own emotions down.

"No, they can't know," he told me. A miserable expression passed over his face, before he hung his head in defeat.

"I understand," I agreed, watching his head snap up to watch me with sharp eyes. I understood his hesitation. That dark power that I felt inside him, it was similar to my own…and I hadn't exactly wanted to tell my friends about my origins, now, had I? I could understand and accept his choice…

"Sorry," he hung his head tiredly, shuffling towards me. The malevolent aura around him had receded, as such, none of my human instincts rebelled as his hand came out to run across my left cheek. I closed my eyes, trying not to react. Emotions were always troubling, more so after I defeated my father as I began letting them out little by little. It was hard to rein them in once you started to experience them…

Suddenly, I felt the connection between us fade. Robin grimaced, in pain, clapping his hands to his ears. I could distantly hear a thunderous noise, like the blaring of car horns and angry shouts, and the even further sounds of gunshots. He glanced back into my eyes, pleading.

"Tell no one," he begged, just before he disappeared.

As the world around me began to fade, my consciousness returning, I smiled.

"No one," I promised.

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To Be Continued…

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Author's Note:

Well, that turned out to be a longer chapter then I expected it would be. Oh well.

I had to rewrite this a few times to get the flow to work. It turned out pretty good. Once I got a feel for Raven's personality, the construction of the chapter was pretty simple. I will iterate, though, that this chapter was told from Raven's perspective, which means that we have even more of a greater idea of her character then what was shown on the television show.

As always, review and tell me your thoughts.

Ta.

Professor Image.


	5. The Cat

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Teen Titans television series, comic books, or games, nor do I own DC comics or the Legacy of Kain. DC comics and Teen Titans are owned by Warner Bros. Entertainment, and the Legacy of Kain video game series is owned by Square Enix. I have made no monetary gain off of this work of fiction. This piece of fiction was written with only entertainment purposes in mind. Please do not sue. This work of fiction is meant for a mature audience. Anyone under the age of majority in their region should leave now. Thank you.

* * *

I should think it obvious, but, yes, Raven will wind up with Robin. That being said, keep in mind that vampires are pretty sexual by natural, and there will be several points in this story where Richard seduces other characters besides Raven, though some of those times might not be intentional. Vampires draw the dark and corrupted like a plague. I wouldn't find it too strange if Blackfire had an interest in the new Robin…wouldn't you?

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Enjoy:

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Dark Carnage:

Blood Omen

A Fanfiction Written by

Professor Image

Chapter V

"The Cat"

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DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC/DC

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Night dawns, and with it, the vampire grows stronger.

I awoke to the bleating of the living. Each locked in the petty squabbles of their short, insignificant lives, unaware of the shadow of death that hung over their heads like the clocks that they rushed against. In the distance, I could hear the typical noises of the city, cars and electricity and angry humans. Somewhere in the motel two people were having a heated argument that had drawn the police. It was these sounds that drew me from my sleep and my conversation with Raven.

I unfurled myself from the shower, my body aching with renewed hunger and fatigue. However, already I could feel my strength returning, as the dark power inside me infused my body with the strength to hunt…and to feed…

As I stepped out of the bathroom I realized that the final hour of daylight had come, at last. The curtains in the only window in the room blocked much of the light from entering, casting the room in shadow. And yet, it was as bright as high noon to me. I claimed my sword from the nightstand which I had set it upon at dawn, and settled into a chair overlooking the window with a note of relief. I did not know if it was yet safe to venture out into the world yet with night only just beginning, remembering that I had stepped forth from my womb of rebirth in the dawning hours of twilight. I would have to wait at the very least an hour more if I wished for safety.

As I waited, the hunger inside me grew ever stronger. My fangs had grown passed my lips, unable to be restrained. I held a hand to my mouth, willing my resilience to keep me through the hour. At the same time, gunshots roared inside the tiny motel. I rose to my feet, ever alert, my body tense with the desire to kill.

There was gunfire somewhere down the hall. A woman was screaming, crying out for the shooter to stop. At the noise, the part of me that remained from my human life rose to the forefront. I shifted towards the doorway, listening.

The gunshots fell silent, the woman was crying, and the man was breathing hard. Any minute now I expected him to turn his fury upon the woman, claiming her life too. My fury, suppressed so far, ignited anew, and I willed my dark powers to help me catch the mortal who would interrupt the peace so.

Again, an electrical current passed over my body, and suddenly I was everywhere and anywhere, filling the room to the very corners. And yet, I felt strangely insubstantial, as if a strong gust of wind could blow me away unless I asserted enough willpower to keep me in place. I felt that I could seep through the walls if I so chose.

Testing the theory, I pressed myself into the cracks of the door, surprised when I sunk through the doorframe and into the hallway. Some bits of me still remained in the room, but they followed quickly, seeping into the hallway with me.

At the end of the hallway was an open door. Two police offers lay strewn halfway in the doorframe, blood sinking into the carpet. The scent of it was maddening. I drifted ever closer to the room, to find that, as I expected, a man and woman were secluded inside the room. The woman was whimpering now as the man raised the gun in his hand only to lash her across the shoulders and back with the butt end. As I pressed into the room, the man stopped, turning his head in confusion.

"Fog?" he wondered. Ah, yes, that would explain the insubstantial feeling. I willed myself to reform behind the man, my feet landing lightly on the bloodstained carpet, and my reformed sword returning to my hand once more.

Before he could turn around, I thrust the sword at him, digging it deep into his body and splashing blood across the woman and the walls. The man gasped, gurgling blood, as I withdrew the blade from his back and turned him around to yank his head to the side.

I fed my thirst for the next few moments, never quite feeling fulfilled. When at last the man ran dry, I threw aside his husk to glower down at the woman.

She was speaking in hurried Spanish, a near silent prayer. It was obvious that she recognized what I was. Strangely, the prayer did not harm me. Rather, a fury began to rise inside me as I looked at the feeble creature that this woman was. The hunger inside me purred in pleasure, flashing its fangs in delight. The thought to sate my hunger with this woman's blood was like trying to fight against a storm. I took a step back, breathing raggedly.

"_Go_," I growled. The woman pulled herself to her feet and sprinted from the room. The impulse to follow, to catch her in the hallway and rip out her throat and feed my inner monster was stronger, stronger than even the desire for revenge had been after learning of my family's deaths…. And yet, somehow, I managed to resist the bloodlust curling in my belly, supporting myself upon the wall and breathing through my mouth quickly so that the smell of fresh blood would not tempt me.

When I last I managed to regain control of my demons, I stepped out of the room and left to my own. Though I had walked through puddles of blood, strangely, my footsteps did not carry any traces of it on the floor. When at last I entered the room, I threw open the window.

I barely registered the dawning night, consumed with the desire to regain some semblance of control over my instincts. I climbed out of the window and onto the fire escape, sprinting to the rooftop. Once I was able to look over the city again from the skyline, I called forth my dark power and willed the change.

My flock took flight, dispersing to the sky. I was not yet certain of where I was going, only that the need to feed marshalled me onwards.

When I regained my human form again, I was only barely aware that I was standing amongst a gang of thugs. I barely registered that they were standing over a beaten pair, an older man and a woman, before I was lashing out.

I cannot tell you what happened next, as the only thing I can remember were the taste of blood in my mouth. And yet, somehow, when I returned to my senses, savaging a desiccated body of one of the thugs, I found that I had, somehow, retained enough willpower to keep from gorging myself on the couple. They had retreated to the back of the alley, trembling in fear. In disgust, I threw away the dried husk of a corpse from myself, and looked round the alley in amazement.

Besides the one thug that I could see where I had buried my sword into his heart, it appeared as if I had either torn the rest apart with my bare hands or drained them dry, feasting on their blood. Their bodies lay, either dismembered or relaxed. With the eyes of the couple upon me, I reached the nearest body and sorted through his belongings.

I was unsurprised by the cash and the Penguin membership card on hand. It seemed that every criminal in the city frequented that place. What were more interesting were the two headed tattoos upon their arms. I knew that this was a symbol of Two-Face's gang. Since my resurrection, I had encountered several of the local gangs, and Two-Face's gang was one of the most abundant. There were also Bane's and the Joker's gangs, and every now and again I would find one of Mr. Freeze's henchmen, but other than those, it seemed most crime was perpetuated by Two-Face's band of merry men.

After sorting through everything of value, I removed my sword from the only man that I had killed with it. As the light of the streetlamp reflected on the shiny blade, I briefly wondered if I should find a sheath for it. It was somewhat difficult to carry around as it was, since I didn't have access to two hands, and yet, somehow, it was able to transform with me when I called forth my power.

On impulse, I called forth my power and willed it to hide my sword, to free my hands for use. The next instant, an electrical current passed from my heart, to my hand, and into the sword. I watched the blade turn an inky black, before folding upon itself and into a ball, and then sinking into my gloved hand.

Curiously, I flexed my hand, but didn't note any difference. Satisfied, I turned to the couple, and strode towards them.

The man and woman were older, and appeared to be one of the many impoverished of the city. Though they shook in fear, I had noted that even from the moment that I had appeared the man had positioned his body to hide the woman behind him. I nodded, feeling strangely vindicated with my next action.

"Goodnight," I said, simply, and extended my hand to the man. He seemed surprised to find that I was passing him one of the rolls of fifty dollar bills that I had collected from their assailants. He hesitated a moment, before accepting the roll of cash, and as soon as it left my hand I turned and disappeared back into the shadows.

Five minutes later, I regained my human form on the rooftop of a building overlooking a museum. Strangely at peace, for the first time since my cursed resurrection, I sat down upon the edge of the building and counted all the bills that I had retrieved from my victims.

Nearly five grand in two nights, I noted. That was a nice starting point for my new life. Of course, I'd be a lot better off if I was ever able to make contact with Bruce, and if he could accept my new life. Otherwise, it appeared that I would have to truly rely on myself for the first time in my life.

I couldn't help the pleased laughter that spilled from my lips. My rich, low voice sounded strange to my ears, but I found that I liked the change. I felt at ease in my own body for the first time in my life…

Or would that be, unlife?

A flicker of movement caught my supernatural eyes. It appeared to be a dark shape in the quiet night, slinking out from the shadows of a window. I leaned forwards, eager, to find a familiar sight climb up to the roof of the museum before leaping across the gap between our rooftops. Of course, the figure did not possess superhuman strength, and she had to augment her ascent by snapping out her whip to carry her across. It appeared that she hadn't yet seen me, which wasn't surprising since I was sitting underneath the shadow of the billboard.

She landed behind me, her slender body lightly touching down onto the rooftop with hardly any noise to speak of. I stood to my feet, and the slight noise of it alerted her to my presence.

She whirled around, her hand rising to defend with her whip. I knew that she couldn't see me properly, even with the high tech goggles that she had taken to wearing these recent years. Yet I knew she was ready for me to attack.

"Catwoman," I stated, blandly. Of course it would be one of Batman's rogues that interrupted my quiet night. Just my bad luck that the one to show up is Bruce's on-again off-again girlfriend.

"You're not the Batman," Selina Kyle blinked at me. Then she turned away from me, as if disregarding me completely.

A new fury welled inside me, my vampiric instincts reacting to her complete dismissal of me, as if I weren't a threat. As the anger grew, I felt a new sensation permeate from me, spilling out across the rooftop. I could tell she felt the aura of violence that spilled forth from me, as her whole body suddenly went tense with alarm.

"No, I'm not," I agreed, my lips pulling back over my lengthening fangs. I wasn't aware of moving myself, until I found myself reaching out towards her. She reacted, surprised by my speed, jumping back and lashing out with her whip.

Instead of dodging, I reached out and caught the long strand, giving a sharp tug and ripping it from her grip. She growled, reaching into her own utility belt to remove a little pellet. When she threw it down to the rooftop a smoke screen burst out to cover the whole roof.

I ignored this, focusing on my other senses. The smoke screen was an interesting trick, but even the Green Arrow wouldn't have fallen for it, let alone the Batman. And with my new, super powered senses, it was easy to find her as she tried to steal her whip out from under me. I reached down, caught her arms in my hands, and held her struggling body to mine as I jumped backwards off the rooftop and onto the neighboring rooftop.

As we touched down onto the new rooftop, she was finally able to get a good look at me as the moonlight danced across my features. Her mouth fell open in surprise, startled to find fierce, golden eyes glowering out at her from behind a simple dynamo mask.

I underestimated her, of course. I never interacted with Catwoman all that much in my time under Bruce's care, so I didn't know her habits like I knew my own rogue's gallery. She kicked out into my kneecap with the heel of her boot, making me wince in pain, before she jerked her arm out of my grasp. I had barely any time to move before she was striking at me with the steel claws that lined her gloves.

After a few quick strikes, she backed away, circling around me. I followed her with my eyes, feeling confident that I could defeat her if I put the effort into it.

"So, who are you supposed to be?" she finally spoke. I turned to regard her, cocking my head back in confusion.

"Good question," I grunted. I couldn't exactly call myself _Robin_ anymore, could I? No, that part of my life was gone to me, now. Besides, no one would believe me unless they had undeniable proof of which superhero I had been. After all, in little over a week I had changed so much…

"Well, you have to _be_ somebody, going out at night in the Batman's town, dressed in that getup," she stated, and I saw her glance at the rooftop that we had just leapt from. She would need to get her whip if she wished to escape, I figured, since she had to make up for her lack of powers _somehow_.

"Makes as much sense as any argument, I guess," I grumbled, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Don't tell me, are you the Dreadhaunt?" Catwoman demanded, leaping towards me with a leg extended. I caught her kick in one hand, and blocked the next strike of her left hand with my right.

"Who," I wondered. She grunted, and forced her palm into my collar. I let her go just for the hell of it, wanting her to keep talking.

"You mean that you haven't heard of the Dreadhaunt?" Selina asked me, shifting uneasily. I knew that that brief exchange between us had unsettled her. Not even the Batman could just shrug her off when she was serious.

"No, I haven't, otherwise I wouldn't be asking, now, would I?" I stated. She sighed.

"How about you let me go and I tell you everything that you want to know?" she asked me. I snorted.

"How about you tell me everything I want to know and I'll _think_ about letting you go?" I stated, raising my hand. I knew that I had caught her attention, since in my hand was the little pouch that she had tied to her waist with whatever she had stolen inside. She swore loudly.

"What, you don't trust me?" she questioned. I chuckled.

"No," I juggled the pouch in one hand, caught between amusement and annoyance at her delay. She shrugged.

"Well, can't blame a girl for trying, right?" she asked rhetorically.

"You have to the count of five…" I stated.

"What? To what?" she asked. I smirked.

"You have to the count of five to start spilling your guts before I forcibly rip them out…" she blanched at my threat.

"Fine, fine," she sighed. "I'll tell you what you want to know…"

I listened.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Author's Note:

Well, that kind of turned out different then what I imagined it. Oh, well, it's a good change, anyways. I hope you all enjoyed that!

As always, leave a review and tell me what you think.

Ta.

Professor Image.


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